Trauma

as the blood dries

beneath my nails

as the metallic smell

lingers in the air

as my boots

slip on the shit stained floor

as I wipe the vomit

from my shirt front



removing blood-stained glasses

ripping of blue blood gloves

gazing across

at what lies before

not a beep can be heard

lights fade to gray

ashen faces stare back

and the memory remains

© 2018 michael d emmerich

© 2018 mikesnexus.com

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